


The Sound of Victory

by psyraah



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 15:49:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18369152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psyraah/pseuds/psyraah
Summary: That night, Shiro wins more than just the House Cup.





	The Sound of Victory

**Author's Note:**

> A very late gift for the wonderful Dannielle who helped do several pinch hits during the Sheith Secret Santa. Thank you again for the help and for the patience waiting for this gift!

The sound of victory is the thump of the Quaffle in Shiro’s gloved hand.

A split second later, the roar of the crowd decked out in black and yellow sweeps through the air, washing over Shiro like a dream, as their seeker waves a precious Snitch clutched in a shaking fist.

The sound of victory is the silence that follows. It’s the way everything stops for Shiro as he hangs in the air, the sun on his back and his breath coming hard and fast through the adrenaline. It’s knowing that he’s _here_ , despite everything that anyone or anything has thrown at him.

It’s the thump of sweaty bodies to the ground as his team mates dive on him, as they sweep him off the pitch in a tide of celebration, voices high with emotion and their love washing over him. He barely gets a moment to breathe amongst the noise as his whole team is swept up to the podium, Shiro pushed forward with pride as their captain, and all he can do to acknowledge the throng of his supporters is to wave and smile through aching cheeks.

(“I’m proud of you,” Keith murmurs, a hand on Shiro’s arm and pride in his smile before he slips away. “I’ll see you later.”)

The sound of victory is the screams and cheers and chants of his name as he raises the cup and knows that he led his team here. It’s the long party into the night, and the laughter and congratulations and the singing.

But in the quiet hours of the morning, when it’s all died down, it’s something else. It’s the feeling of heart and home that is nestled in his soul now, and the echo of Shiro’s footsteps down a familiar path to the Gryffindor common room that brings him more happiness than anything.

It’s the quiet turning of pages by a slight figure perched on the couch, feet tucked under himself, bathed in soft firelight.

“Heard you won today,” Keith calls, looking up from his book to Shiro.

“You know, you didn’t have to wait up,” Shiro says as a reply, flopping down on the couch next to his best friend. His arm itches to sling itself around Keith’s shoulders but…

Almost. But not yet.

“I wanted to.” Keith closes his book, and he turns to Shiro with the softest smile on his face. “Couldn’t pass up a moment with the man of the hour. You should hear what people are saying about you. About the third save in the tenth quarter where you did the one and a third turns, or whatever it is you jocks talk about.”

Shiro laughs, still giddy on victory. “You say that like you’re not invested, but you look happy, Mr Gryffindor,” Shiro teases.

“Nope,” Keith says, but the corners of his mouth are twitching. “Not even my team.” Keith looks down at his textbook again, hiding behind his bangs. Much as Shiro mourns Keith’s eyes on his, it does mean that he can just stare all the more openly at Keith, and smile like a fool while he’s at it.

“Still, you helped more than you know,” Shiro says gently. “Although probably don’t let anyone in your house in on that.”

Keith shrugs. “It’s not like they don’t know I—that you’re my friend.” He coughs, shifting on the couch. “That’s beside the point, anyway. You’re the best Keeper the school’s seen. You worked hard, and it paid off.”

Shiro can’t—and won’t—deny that he has definitely put in the hours, and the blood, the sweat, the gallons of tears. But he also knows that he was a write-off. Had been as soon as he stepped in these halls when he was eleven with resentment in his heart and an innocuous medical note on his file.

( _The sound of grief had been this: the Hufflepuff captain approaching him in that second year to say, “sorry, but Prof says we can’t have you hurting yourself if you play.” It had been apologetic, as was the comment that followed, but none of it saved the knife twisting in Shiro’s heart._

_“You were still the best tryout we had today, though!”)_

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Shiro says, and because today is a good day, and because he loves Keith, he reaches out to take his best friend’s hand.

Keith freezes, and Shiro smiles nervously.

“I don’t think I could’ve done any of this without you,” he confesses quietly. “Any of it. Not without you getting the right professors to back me, not without you listening to me rant about every second medical appointment, bringing me books to read when I was stuck in bed, catching me up on classes that weren’t even yours.”

The words come easily even as Shiro’s heart races. Keith’s still not looking at him and in the firelight, Shiro’s not sure the red on Keith’s cheeks is a blush or the echoes of the crackling flames. But he ploughs on, because even if Keith doesn’t return his feelings, even if Keith remains his friend and only that (and even that is a treasure), at the very least, Shiro has to know how damn _grateful_ he is to have him.

“I couldn’t have done it without your heart, Keith.”

Shiro licks his lips, and with all the courage Keith has given him, he gently tilts Keith’s head up so that he can look him in the eye.

“I—I don’t think I can do any of this without you,” he whispers. “I love you. So much. And I want to give you everything that you’ve given me, all your care, all your patience, your belief.”

Keith’s eyes are wide as saucers, that deep, familiar violet staring at Shiro. “I—” Keith glances down at their joined hands, before his eyes flicker back up to Shiro’s. “I have to—Shiro, are you asking me out?”

Shiro smiles helplessly. Trust Keith to get straight to the point where Shiro had been fumbling around. “Yeah,” he says, breathless. “I guess I am.” He squeezes Keith’s hand gently. “What would you say to that?”

For a moment, Keith stares at him, and Shiro’s heart is thundering in his ears. Then a tentative smile breaks across Keith’s face, and suddenly, he’s pressed up against Shiro, warm and beautiful and solid and _real_. His fingers brush Shiro’s cheek, and Shiro doesn’t think there’s a universe where the feeling can ever grow old.

The sound of victory is Keith’s whispered “yes”, floating on a breath and a promise, when his lips meet Shiro’s in the first of their togethers.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/starchydreams)! Comments and kudos welcome as usual :)


End file.
